Illusions
by my crooked heart
Summary: The residents of District 12 watch the opening ceremonies. Rory helps Prim to see that there is hope for Katniss. Oneshot, sequel to Surviving, RoryxPrim.


**Illusions**

**Disclaimer: All characters, places etc. are the property of Suzanne Collins! I'm just borrowing them :)**

This fic is the sequel to Surviving, although it can be read as a standalone. RoryxPrim, written in **Rory's POV** this time. Please R&R, and enjoy! :)

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><p>"<em>Primrose Everdeen!"<em>

_It's a nightmare. I stand, rooted to the spot as Prim emerges from the crowd. Her face is determined and her fists are clenched, but I can see the fear in her eyes. Her blouse has become untucked. She doesn't seem to notice. She walks purposefully toward the stage. I want to lunge forward and grab her and run. I know that I can't._

_Helplessly, I watch her ascend the steps. Murmurs zip through the crowd, some of whom are horrified that a twelve year old has been chosen, others who are just relieved that their own daughters are safe for another year. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to watch as Prim accepts her fate. And then a voice rips out across the square._

"_PRIM!"_

_My heart wrenches in my chest and I open my eyes. It's Katniss. She's racing through the crowd, her eyes frantic with worry and fear and a desperate sense of _no, this can't be happening to us_. She reaches Prim and then looks up at Effie Trinket with a steady stare, and volunteers to take Prim's place in the Games._

_Nobody knows what to do with this information. Volunteering is unheard of in District 12. But Katniss just stares defiantly at Effie Trinket, until she is allowed to take her place on stage. Prim's eyes grow wide as she realizes what is happening and she launches herself at Katniss, wrapping her arms around the older girl's legs. They're skinny arms, with barely an ounce of fat on them, but they are strong. She clings to Katniss, refusing to let her leave. Katniss orders her to let go, but she doesn't listen, her stubborn Everdeen spirit shining through. This is becoming too much to bear. I want to look away, but I can't._

_As I watch, my older brother Gale approaches the stage. His face is devoid of all emotion. He reaches for Prim mechanically and pries her away from Katniss's legs, ignoring her struggles and protests. With a dreadful finality, he meets Katniss's eyes._

"_Up you go, Catnip," he says, his voice strangled. Katniss takes her place on stage. Gale carries Prim away, shrieking and kicking for all he's worth. Effie Trinket reaches into the boys' reaping ball._

I am not standing in the square, waiting with bated breath to hear my own name or Gale's. The Reaping has come and gone, and the District 12 tributes for this year are already heading off to the Capitol. Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen – a novelty of sorts. The girl who sacrificed herself to save her sister.

I know better than to believe the whispers that are circulating through the Seam. They're calling Katniss a hero for wanting to protect Prim. While I am glad that Prim is not in the arena, I know that they are wrong. Taking Prim's place in the Games may be protecting her in a way, but it's also damaging her in another. She is torn up with guilt over Katniss's departure, a guilt which will only worsen if Katniss is killed in the Games.

Gale is guilty too, although he has no reason to be. He feels like he should have protected both Katniss and Prim, although I told him that it would have been impossible. His argument was that the odds of Effie Trinket pulling Prim's name from that reaping ball was practically impossible, and yet it happened. I stopped trying to reason with him after that.

I won't lie. I'm not guilty about what happened. It was Katniss's choice – and I know that in the future, if Vick's name is reaped, I will volunteer to replace him in a heartbeat. That is my duty as his elder brother.

Prim, however, doesn't seem to understand the concept of familial sacrifice. The day after Katniss's departure, I find her in the Meadow, weaving a daisy chain. She is sitting as far away from the electric fence as it's possible to be, although there's no point. Gale has told me about how the fence is only activated at night.

But then, I suppose the odds aren't in Prim's favour these days.

"Rory," she says, sensing my presence before I've said a word. I think back to last night, when she said my name and then burst into tears. I decided, there and then, that I was going to look after Prim for as long as she needed me. "I would have thought you'd be helping with the preparations for tonight."

Tonight is the opening ceremonies for the Hunger Games. The ceremony is going to be broadcast in the town square, so that the families who can't afford a television can see it. I can't imagine how Prim and Mrs. Everdeen will feel when they see Katniss on the screen.

Ordinarily I would have volunteered to help setting up, but this year, it feels too personal. It's cutting too close to the bone. Of course, Gale is helping out as usual. He is doing anything he can to avoid thinking about Katniss. I think he's afraid to let his thoughts stray, just in case they turn to her. And so, he is keeping busy.

"They didn't need any extra hands this year," I reply quietly. Prim continues threading daisies together. I approach her cautiously before lowering myself to the ground beside her. She stares fixedly at the small white flowers in her hands, studiously avoiding my eyes. I sense that now is not the time for speaking, so we simply sit in silence, waiting for the sun to go down. When it does, Prim is the first to stand. She holds out a hand and I take it, electricity zipping through my body at the light contact. We thread our way through the grass, back to the square.

The television screen is already rigged up. Gale stands to the side, his face blank as a slate. I spot Mrs. Everdeen in the crowd, standing with my mother, Vick and Posy. Prim sees them too, but she tugs me in the opposite direction. I guess that she doesn't want to be near Mrs. Everdeen when Katniss makes her Capitol debut.

The night grows darker and darker, until finally, the screen lights up. The anthem of Panem bursts through the speakers, and the tributes begin to flood onscreen.

I barely notice the first few pairs, too fixated on the way Prim's grip has tightened on my hand, and the way her lips are set in a thin white line. When the District 11 tributes have made their entrance, her grip grows even tighter. Her bottom lip starts to tremble. Finally, I fix my attention on the screen.

The familiar coal black chariot appears onscreen. A collective gasp runs through the people crowded in the square and I feel my jaw drop. Prim's hand slips out of my grasp. Sitting in the chariot with wide smiles are Katniss and Peeta – and they're on _fire_.

Each one of them is dressed in a simple black unitard, probably for the obligatory coal reference. Capes of flame cascade from their shoulders, while matching headdresses rest on their hair. Katniss's face is glowing in the light from the flames, while Peeta's teeth and eyes shine beneath the blaze. They should be screaming in terror, writhing in pain, but instead, they are beaming and holding hands. Katniss camps it up for the audience, blowing kisses as she passes. I am awestruck.

"She's burning," Prim whispers, raising a hand to cover her mouth. "She's _burning_, Rory."

I glance at her and see that she is not staring at the screen with stunned admiration – instead, her eyes are wide with fear and her cheeks have flushed a dark, dark red. She hasn't noticed that Katniss is smiling. The only thing registering in Prim's mind is the fact that her sister is surrounded by licking tongues of fire. I put my hands on her shoulders and steer her to the front of the crowd, ignoring the angry mutters of those we pass. Most of them part when they see Prim, although a few just stare at her. When we finally reach the front of the crowd, I point to the screen, where Katniss and Peeta's chariot is rolling to a stop.

"There," I murmur, squeezing her shoulders in what I hope is a comforting manner. "Look, Prim. She's okay. She's not really on fire. It's just an illusion."

For the first time since the Reaping, a wide smile crosses Prim's face. "Oh," she breathes, "it's _wonderful_. No-one will forget her now. No-one!"

Looking at Katniss's determined eyes and glittering smile, I know that this is true.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it! I wasn't too sure about writing in Rory's POV, so if it seems a little forced, please let me know. I'm thinking of turning this into a kind of a series, focusing on Rory and Prim mainly, but also on some of the other residents of District 12... it would focus on their thoughts on Katniss volunteering for Prim, of the romance in the arena, etc. What do you think?<strong>

**- RawrLeahtaur**


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